Fullmetal Alchemist: Aftermath
by Deus Vult
Summary: Weak and malnourished from his time in the gate, Alphonse Elric begins the slow and painful process of regaining his strength and health, with his brother Edward helping him every step of the way.
1. The White Room

**Fullmetal Alchemist: Aftermath**

**Chapter 1: The White Room**

The first thing Alphonse Elric saw upon regaining consciousness was the color white. It seemed to come from everywhere—blinding, glaring white that hurt his eyes and made him want to bury his face in the sheets. He willed his eyes to focus, his mind to stay awake, fighting the exhaustion and weakness of his ravaged body. Lines and dots of darker colors emerged from the white, which coalesced into outlines and textures, which themselves became the tiles that made up the ceiling of the stark white room Alphonse lay in.

Alphonse could not remember how he got here, his last memories being of waking up in his original body after five years trapped in a suit of armor and shortly thereafter passing out in his brother's arms. He looked around, withered neck muscles slowly contracting to turn his cervical spine. The room was definitely a hospital room. He was naked; the coat Ed had wrapped him in having been taken from him. Two IV lines snaked from a pump into his bony arm, a third was connected to a central venous catheter going into his neck. The walls were just as white as the ceiling, as was his bedding, and the floor. The lights were unbearably bright, and his body was host to sensations that he had not felt in years, many of them decidedly unpleasant—pain, exhaustion, weakness, hunger. Especially the hunger. His stomach felt like it had been torn in two; his body begged his soul for food. It was like no hunger he had ever felt in his life.

Every movement sent jolts of pain through Alphonse's body as he turned his head the other way. On the far side of the room there was another bed, with someone in it. Alphonse squinted, his underused, overtaxed eyes struggling to give him a clear image. A small teenage boy lay in the bed with long blond hair draped over his shoulders, eyes closed in peaceful sleep, his forehead crisscrossed with gauze and stitches closing gashes in his cheek. His brother. Alphonse cursed himself for his pitiful state, wanting more than anything to climb out of bed and embrace his beloved Edward, for giving him the chance to be whole again.

Even if Alphonse was too weak to get up and touch his brother, at least he could try speaking to him. "Brother?" he called out, his voice hoarse, weak, and much deeper than he expected—he had to get used to a body whose voicebox had dropped.

Edward squirmed in his bed, as if resenting being pulled out of a pleasant dream. The youth opened his eyes with a groan. "Is that you, Al? How are you feeling?"

"Not so good, Brother." Alphonse tried to sit up, but despite every effort he found that he could not. "I thought that when I got my body back I'd be back to normal. I had no idea that my body was starving all that time." Alphonse rested his hand on his stomach. "I'm so hungry. I feel like I'm about to die."

Ed had a look of pity on his face. "The doctors told me that you can't have any food until they're sure your digestive system can handle it. They're feeding you through an IV for now. I guess you'll have to wait a while before you get to try that apple pie."

Al smiled weakly. "Speaking of apple pie, you know that Winry's going to kill you when she finds out that your automail is gone, don't you?"

Ed chuckled; the elder Elric's laughter was music to Al's ears. "She'll get over it. I'm sure she'll be glad to see me alive, with or without an automail arm."

"Brother?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you get me back, after I transmuted my soul to give you a right arm?"

Ed closed his eyes briefly, and then reopened them. "I gave up alchemy, and transmuted my gate of Truth. I'll never be able to use alchemy again."

Al was gripped with shock, that his brother would sacrifice something so precious. "But Brother, if you gave up your alchemy..."

Ed cut him off. "I don't care as long as I have you, Al. I set out to give you your body back, and now I've done all I really wanted to do with alchemy. Don't worry about it."

Al felt a sadness take hold of him. Even if Ed seemed content with his actions, it was still a tremendous sacrifice. If Ed wouldn't mourn it, he would for him. "I guess...I guess you're no longer the Fullmetal Alchemist, huh?"

"The colonel told me I'd receive my discharge papers tomorrow. It's officially listed as a medical discharge, so at least I'll get a pension out of it." Ed paused, and then his face took on a concerned look. "Why do you look so sad, Al?"

"Because you had to give up so much for me, Brother. I can't imagine how hard it was for you to do that, to throw away your life's work to get me back."

"Alphonse, when I went to face Truth and get you back, I didn't doubt myself for a moment. Everything I did on our journey, I did for you, Al, because I love you."

Tears welled up in Alphonse's eyes, as his sorrow was now accompanied by intense, overwhelming joy. "Thank you, Brother! Thank you so much." Al wept openly and shamelessly, tears streaming down his gaunt face and onto the covers, and he was so overcome with emotion, he hadn't even realize that Ed had gotten up until he felt an arm pulling him up into a sitting position. Al looked up to see Ed sitting next to him, looking at him with a smile. The warmth in Ed's golden eyes made Al feel like his heart was melting.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" said Ed, caressing Al's shoulder.

"It hurts a little, but I don't really mind."

"Well, I have another idea." Al felt Ed lower him back down, and then gently push him over towards the edge of the bed to make room for Ed to lie down beside him. "Does this feel better?"

"Yeah. Feels nice." Slowly and painfully, Al extended an arm out from under the covers to put around his brother. Ed's skin was much softer and smoother than Al's own, which was dry and papery from malnutrition. "What time is it, anyway? My vision is too fuzzy for me to read the clock."

"7:35 PM. I'd say four hours or so since you got your body back. I bet you're tired."

"Yeah." Al shivered, his emaciated body unable to insulate him against the cool air of the room. "And cold."

"Want me to keep you warm through the night?"

"That would be wonderful, Brother."

Ed nodded and got under the covers, pulling Al close."You're so bony, Al. I can't even imagine how much you must be suffering in a state like this."

Al stretched a bit and snuggled against his brother, grateful for the warmth. He sighed with contentment as Ed kneaded what little muscle was left in his shoulder and neck, easing the pain somewhat. Strong, sinewy arms wrapped around his frail body, offering protection and heat. If it weren't for his IVs he would have turned over so he could face his brother. "It's not so bad, Brother. Not with you here next to me."

As the two brothers lay there together, Al began to feel increasingly sleepy. Eventually the world seemed to fall away until all that was left was himself, the sheets, and Ed. For most of his life Alphonse had wanted to feel his mother's warmth, a desire that had left him cursed for years with a body that could feel none at all. Now it was his brother offering him warmth. Ed was good. Ed would suffice. His lips curled into a peaceful smile as he slowly fell asleep.


	2. Needles

**Chapter 2: Needles**

Alphonse awoke to find Ed's arms still wrapped around him. He shifted a bit in bed, his muscles aching in protest. Every attempt at movement brought pain. Ed's hold on him tightened slightly, and he found himself being turned on his back. Ed was now propped up on his elbow, looking down at Al. Edward's hair felt soft to Alphonse as it hung down from the elder Elric's head and brushed against Al's shoulders and chest.

"Good morning Al," said Ed, pushing his hair back so it wouldn't spill all over his brother. "Did you sleep well?"

Al yawned. "Yeah. My first night's sleep in years and years. Brings back memories." Al noticed that Ed's face looked a little more ashen now, and dark circles were starting to form around his brother's eyes. "Brother, did you sleep at all?"

Edward shook his head. "Afraid not. Too many things on my mind. Yesterday was a rough day."

"Certainly was." Al reflected back on the attack on the Central Command Center, the encounter with Father, the hideous monstrosity's ascension to godhood and subsequent downfall, and seeing Ed emerge through the doorway of Truth to bring him back to the world of the living. Those few hours had felt like days. "I really appreciated you holding me last night. Reminds me of when we were little kids and we'd get under the covers together on a cold night."

Ed had a nostalgic smile now, as if doing some reflecting himself. "Things certainly were simpler back then, when we didn't have to worry about getting killed, when we weren't running all over the country, when Mom was still alive."

"Yeah, but even if she didn't pass away and we never went on our journey, that bearded guy would have executed his plan anyway."

"Very true." Ed sat up and stretched his arms out. A sudden cringe seemed to indicate that he had made his arm laceration hurt worse in the process. "Hey, look, I think I should get back in my own bed before the nurse comes in, if there's anything you need, I-"

Ed was interrupted as the nurse opened the door and almost screamed in shock. She was huge, almost six feet tall and at least three hundred pounds, with a seemingly seamless connection between turkey-wattle chin and over-leavened-muffin torso. Her immense fat deposits wiggled and swayed to and fro as she walked. "_Edvard Elric!__"_ she bellowed in a Northern accent so thick Al wondered if it could be cut with a knife. "Vat ze hell are you doink in your brother's bed? You could have pulled out all ze IVs we put in him!"

Ed now had sweat running down his face, and fidgeted nervously as he began stammering out excuses. "Well, n-nurse, Al was cold last night and wanted me to keep him warm, so-"

"I don't care vat he vanted, you idiot!" The nurse's face was deep red now, her double chin jiggling like a gelatin mold. "Get out of his bed!"

Al started to giggle at the nurse's obesity, screaming tirade, and ridiculous accent. This just made the nurse turn to him and shoot him a withering glare.

"And _you_, Alphonse! Do you think I am funny, you shriveled little scarecrow? Do you?"

"Yes!" Alphonse's gaunt face was now split by a wicked grin as he clapped his hands together and the room filled with blue light. The blanket flew off his bed, wrapped itself around the nurse, and sealed itself into a tube of cloth that bound the fat nurse tightly. Now Ed was laughing, bent double over the floor and struggling for breath. Al didn't care that transmuting the blanket had left his naked body exposed; the thrill of seeing the fat harridan of a nurse writhing on the floor was easily worth it.

"You won't be laughing for very long, you scrawny little imp!" the nurse shrieked as she struggled against the alchemically-created straitjacket. "Dr. Knocs, get in here!"

Both Ed and Al immediately stopped laughing. "Dr. Knocs..." Al whimpered, pulling his knees up against his chest to cover himself.

"Oh, _shit_," muttered Ed.

"Are the kids giving you a hard time, Heidi?" said Dr. Knocs as he surveyed the room with disgust.

"Vell, I think you could say that, yah. Edvard vas sleepink in his brother's bed, and Alphonse used his alchemy to turn his blanket into a straitjacket and tie me up with it!" The nurse attempted to get up, but immediately lost her balance and fell over again, bouncing off the floor as her gut hit the tiles.

The doctor rolled his eyes. "Well, aren't you two a couple of little delinquents? I guess I'm going to have to make sure you _stay _in bed for a while." His voice as icy and menacing.

Al said nothing, frozen in fear, shaking both from the cold air and from terror. If his bladder had anything in it he would have wet himself. He looked over at Ed, only to see that his brother had completely hidden himself under the covers of his bed, with only a few locks of blond hair sticking out.

Dr. Knocs walked over to Edward's bed and flung the covers off. "You know what this is, boy?" he said as he took a syringe out from inside his lab coat. "Phenobarbital. Your face shows that you didn't get much sleep last night, so now you're going to be making it up and then some." Al watched as Ed meekly extended his arm, too frightened to resist, and the doctor plunged the needle into a vein, and gave Ed the injection.

Now it was Alphonse's turn. he looked up at the doctor, trembling in terror.

"Give me your arm, kid."

Alphonse complied. He winced as the doctor roughly snatched his arm by the wrist and pulled it straight, sending pain shooting down his arm and into his chest.

"I can't give you a full dose because it would kill you in your pathetic state, but this ought to keep you quiet, at least for a while." Dr. Knocs stared at Al's arm. "At least this way your veins are easy to see."

Al felt a pinprick as the needle went in. The syringe only seemed to hold a third of what the injection Ed received was, but it was probably enough to render him helpless. He looked over as the doctor took out a knife and cut apart the blanket restraining the nurse, and then gave orders as she stood up.

"Take off Edward's pajamas and give him a bedpan. He's going to be out for a while."

"And vat about his brother?"

"Alphonse is still on TPN, he won't be excreting any solid waste." Dr. Knocs threw the torn rag of a blanket over Alphonse's body.

Alphonse clutched the blanket and watched Dr. Knocs leave the room. Ed was now whining and squirming as the nurse undressed him and put a bedpan underneath him. Already the sedative was starting to take hold, and Ed's complaining rapidly receded from Al's awareness. By the time the nurse left the room, Al was already in a semiconscious stupor.

"Is anybody in there?"

Winry Rockbell grumbled when no response met her after knocking on the door and calling out. This was certainly the Elrics' hospital room—their names were written in marker on a sign taped to the door. Were they still asleep?

_Guess I'll find out_, Winry thought to herself as she opened the door.

The room was as quiet as a tomb. Ed was asleep, his jaw slack and drool running down his chin. He didn't move a muscle when Winry wiped the saliva off of his face with a handkerchief. Al was completely zoned out, staring into space through half-lidded eyes but obviously not aware of her. Both had butterfly bandages on their arms, signs that they had been sedated_. _"How much did they give them?" she muttered. "Ed must have received enough barbiturates to knock out a horse, and Al's not much better." Sighing in frustration, she pulled up a chair to Al's bedside and sat down. Al didn't look to be _entirely_ asleep; maybe she could get him out of la-la land. She laid a hand on his face, stroking his protruding cheekbone.

Alphonse stirred a bit in his sleep and moaned. Obviously he felt it, but it was not enough. Winry decided to take more drastic action, and pinched the skin of Al's arm with her fingernails, hard.

Alphonse let out a cry and his eyes snapped open, darting around the room in confusion. After a few seconds, they appeared to focus. "W-Winry?" he slurred.

"Hey, Al. Why are you and your brother all drugged up?" Winry touched Al's hair; it was dull and brittle from malnutrition and she let go when a few strands came out in her hand.

"Felt cold...had Brother...get in bed with me last night...keep me warm." Al tried to reach out with his arm. Deducing what he wanted to do, Winry took his hand.

"Awwww, that was sweet of him. They knocked you out for that?"

"Nurse...got mad at us...I used alchemy...wrapped her up...in blanket...so she couldn't...get out." Al's speech was slow, halting, and slurred from the drugs, and Winry struggled to understand him.

"You transmuted your covers so they bound her up? Is that why the blanket is torn?"

"Mmmm-hmmm. You...should have seen her. Very funny. Not so funny though...when Knocs took out...the needle."

"You two always start trouble, don't you? But you're so sick I really feel sorry for you. Let me look inside my bag, I might have something to reverse the drug with." Winry dug through her purse, looking for an antidote. "Ah. Here it is. This one's an injection, too. It will take a few minutes to kick in." Winry slid the needle into one of the many prominent veins in Alphonse's arm and depressed the plunger.

Over the next few minutes, Al's eyes opened wider, his jaw set, and he started to move more. Once satisfied that Al was more or less awake, Winry tried talking to him again. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by a train. My whole body hurts. I'm really hungry but they're only feeding me through an IV because my digestive tract doesn't work right or something." Al groaned as he shifted into a different position in bed.

"You look starved, Al. You're so scrawny, and I can see bones sticking out everywhere." Winry took Alphonse's hand again and looked at his nails. "Look how long and ragged these are. Let me clip them for you." She pulled a nail clipper out from her purse and cut Al's nails, filing the freshly cut edges with an emery board to remove any sharp points, and then repeated with his other hand. "There we go. Much better." She pulled Al's covers back and felt a chill as she saw the boy's protruding ribcage and sternum, his dry, thin skin, and his sunken belly. "You really _are_ starved. It's a miracle you're still alive."

"Maybe that's why I kept feeling my soul being pulled away from my armor in the last few days before yesterday. I think my body was dying. I don't think I could have lasted much longer."

"Well now you're safe, Al, and you're going to get better. I just hope you can make a full recovery."

"I hope so too, Winry. It would be terrible to have to depend on other people for the rest of my life. Especially after all that Brother went through. Speaking of him, do you think you could wake him up, too?"

"I don't have another shot, and I don't think it would be enough to properly rouse him anyway." Winry heard the door open behind her. "Huh?"

It was Dr. Knocs. "Miss Rockbell, I presume?"

"Yes, doctor. I was here to visit the Elric brothers."

"Would you mind telling me why you woke Alphonse up?"

Winry glared at the doctor. "Because I didn't take a train all the way from Resembool to talk to the walls, _doctor_. If you want a problem, doctor, I can give you a problem!" She pulled a wrench out of her purse and thumped the end of it against the palm of her other hand.

"Fine. Have it your way. Just make sure he doesn't cause any trouble. At least you didn't wake up his brother. Edward's the more annoying of the two. He whines and complains and bitches _constantly_."

"I'm quite familiar with his whining. After all, I built his automail and assisted with the automail surgeries. But I really want to talk about Al. He looks really bad."

"Alphonse is badly malnourished. When he was admitted he was on death's door, with severe hyponatremia, hypokalemia, and dehydration. He was able to stand briefly after the fight with that..._thing_ in the command center only through sheer force of will."

"Will he get better?"

"I don't expect him to make a full recovery, Miss Rockbell. His kidneys are in bad shape, and his liver and heart have significant damage as well. His muscles are so atrophied that he'll probably be frail and weak for the rest of his life. The best case scenario is that he starts walking with a cane but still needs help with activities with bathing and dressing, and it's unlikely that he'll make it to sixty with what's happened to his organs."

Winry felt tears coming to her eyes, at the thought that Edward had poured so much sweat and blood and toil into getting Alphonse back only to get a crippled, broken shell of a brother after all of his hard work. "You mean, Ed did all this for Al...and he won't recover?" She began to sob.

"It's okay, Winry," said Al, now sitting up in bed and putting an emaciated arm around her. "Even if I'm not strong and healthy I'll still be there. Brother is so happy to have me back, and if he's happy, I'm happy."

"Alphonse!" Winry pulled Al against her chest, hugging him tightly. Alphonse groaned a bit but did not try to get out of the hug. She buried her face in his bony shoulder, her tears running down his chest and belly onto the sheets.

Dr. Knocs physically pulled Winry away from Alphonse. "Stop that, Miss Rockbell! He's very fragile in his condition and you'll injure him if you manhandle him like that."

"All right, I won't hold him upright. Can I still touch him?"

"_Gently._"

"He wasn't gentle with me!" Al interjected, his lips in a pout.

"Shut up, boy, or I'll strap you to the bed. I'll be back in a few hours. Miss Rockbell, keep an eye on those boys. Make sure they stay in bed."

"Will do, doctor. Thank you." Winry harumphed after Dr. Knocs closed the door. "God almighty! What a jerk!"

"That's Dr. Knocs for you," said Al with a wry smile. "That's what he does." Al looked over to Edward's bed as a series of groans came from the other side of the room. "Winry! Brother is coming around!"

Winry sighed. "I guess it's time to tell him the bad news then."

_Medical jargon footnotes_

_TPN = Total parenteral nutrition, or providing all nourishment through an IV._

_Hyponatremia = Sodium deficiency._

_Hypokalemia = Potassium deficiency.  
_


	3. Harsh Reality

**Chapter 3: A Harsh Reality**

Edward opened his eyes slowly, fighting the grogginess caused by the barbiturates Dr. Knocs had given him. Brilliant white light flooded his eyes, and they snapped shut again. "Urgh," he groaned. "Too bright. Makes my head hurt."

"I just dimmed the lights," came Winry's voice from what sounded like the middle of the room. "Is that better?"

Ed opened his eyes again. The room was now fairly dark, with the only light coming from a few shafts of late afternoon sunlight coming through the window. He shook his head to get his bangs out of his face and sat up, the drugs fighting him for every inch of movement. "Damn that doctor. Damn him to hell. If I didn't feel so tired I would kick his ass." Ed yawned, and then looked over to see Winry sitting at Al's bedside, with both Al and Winry looking at him. "How long was I out?"

"Well, looking at the clock," said Al, "I'd guess around eleven hours."

"I slept all day?"

"Yep. I only woke up a little while earlier. Maybe I shouldn't have played that prank with the blanket."

"It's okay; it was funny." Ed looked down at himself. He was completely naked except for the covers. "I'd get out of bed if the damn bitch nurse didn't take all my clothes off." He tilted his head back to stretch out his neck. "Hey Winry, there's a chest over in the corner of the room. Could you find something for me to put on?"

Winry opened the chest and looked inside. "Hmmm, there's not much in here besides undershorts and towels."

"Whatever, as long as it covers the bare essentials."

"What about Alphonse?"

"I think my urinary catheter would get in the way," said Al.

"Well, if I give you something that's open at the bottom, it should be OK." Winry first grabbed a towel, reached under Al's covers, and tied the towel so it wrapped around Al's hips like a sarong. "That will do nicely," she said, ruffling Al's hair. Several more strands came out in her hand. She then took a pair of shorts and moved her chair to Ed's bedside, taking a peek under the covers.

"_Hey!_" said Ed. "I didn't say you could do _that!_" A vivid blush fell upon his face as he heard Al laughing.

Winry had a sly grin on her face. "So you _are_ big for your size down-"

"_Shut up!_" Ed snatched the shorts from Winry and put them on under the covers. He then pushed the blanket away so he could stand up, but Winry put a hand on his shoulder as if to restrain him.

"Hold on, Ed. Let me check your automail before you put weight on—" Winry's eyes suddenly widened. "Ed, your arm..."

"Yeah," said Ed. "Al used alchemy to give it back. But the way he did it means that I had to give up my alchemy to get _him_ back. Looks like it wasted away just as much in the past few wears as Al did. It has barely any strength at all." He noticed that Winry looked rather despondent as she examined the thin, bony organic arm that had replaced her masterpiece automail. "Yeah, sorry about that, but it was Al's idea, and it saved my life." Ed made sure not to mention the Promised Day, Father, or Truth.

"It's all right," said Winry, taking Ed's hand and splaying the fingers out to look at them. "Looks like the fingernails on this hand need cutting too. It's just like Al's hands."

"Yeah. It aches when I move it. If I tried to pick up a gallon jug of water with it I'd probably drop it." Ed rubbed the emaciated arm. "What the hell is with all this hair on it? My other arm isn't that hairy."

"That's lanugo," said Winry. "It's hair that people grow when they're badly malnourished to provide extra insulation. Al has it all over its body, like a very thin coat of fur. He'll probably have to be shaved from the eyebrows down to get rid of it."

"With skin as thin and dry as he has right now? He'll be cut up so bad he'll bleed to death." Ed looked over at his brother. "Al, you still with us? You're awfully quiet."

"Yeah," said Al, stacking his pillows to prop his head up. "Just listening to you two."

Winry looked as if she had suddenly remembered something. "Ed! There's something I need to tell you about Al."

Ed didn't like the sound of her voice. "Is it bad?"

"Dr. Knocs came in earlier, and told me about Al's prognosis. He said he doesn't think Al will get much better."

Ed felt his guts wrench around inside his belly. "Oh, no..."

"He says Al's muscles are too atrophied to grow back fully, and that his organs are damaged. He thinks Al's lifespan will be shortened because of how bad his condition is. Ed, how did he get like this? I'm not accusing you of anything—I'd never think you could be cruel enough to do this to him knowingly—I just want to know what happened to him."

Ed sighed, faced with the realization that he would now have to tell the truth about Truth, or at least part of it. "Winry, look...when you attempt human transmutation, you're sucked into this other dimension where you have to face this creature—I guess you might even call it a god—that calls itself Truth. And it shows you things about alchemy and the universe, and then it...takes away part of you and keeps it in its dimension before dumping you back out. Truth took my leg, and Al's whole body, and then it took my arm when I made the blood seal to put Al's soul in that armor. And Al's body and my arm were sitting there in that other dimension, for five years, slowly wasting away."

Ed rubbed his eyes and then continued. "And Al and I have a theory about something related to that. You know how Al would just collapse all of a sudden, and not wake up for a while, and how it got more and more frequent over time? Al thinks it was because his body was getting sicker and sicker in there. We probably did not have much time left when I got Al's body back from Truth's world. If it had taken much longer, Al might have...might have..." Ed's sentence trailed off with a whimper as he found himself unable to utter the word _died_ and felt tears welling up in his eyes.

"Edward." Winry's arms closed around Ed's body, hands caressing the smooth skin of Ed's back. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I—I thought you wouldn't have..believed me. I'm so scared, Winry. We went through so much to do this, and I wanted more than anything to have my old brother back. To see him smile. To play with him again. To grow old with him. And now he's going to like this forever because I was...I was too slow!" Ed's words degenerated into choked sobs as tears streamed down his cheeks. He buried his face in Winry's shoulder, crying uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry!"

"Brother, please don't cry!" said Alphonse from across the room. "It's okay, you did get me back, after all! I don't want you to be sad!"

Ed wiped the tears from his eyes, pulled away from Winry, and stood up.

"Ed, wait!" said Winry. "Your automail leg! It could fail at any-"

"Whoooooaa!" Ed felt the ankle of his artificial leg give out and twist sideways, causing him to lose his balance. He toppled over onto the hard, cold floor, his chest, shoulders, and arms aching and bruised. "Damn!" Ed crawled across the floor and grabbed onto Al's bed, clutching the mattress to pull himself up so he could sit next to his brother.

"Ed, are you okay?" Winry had now moved her chair again to get close to Ed, and examined the youth's body for injuries. "Oh, dear, these are going to be some nasty bruises," she said, palpating Ed's shoulders.

"I'll be all right. Just a bit banged up. If it were up to me I'd be here to help Al, not as a patient, but Dr. Knocs wants to keep me for at least another night."

"You sure are being sweet to Al. If only you were more like this all the time."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

Winry said nothing, but just sighed as she lifted Ed's automail leg up by the ankle. "Oh no, the ankle joint's a mess. You should have put more oil in it like I told you to."

"Well, between fighting monsters and homunculi and getting dragged to a hospital and filled full of drugs, I haven't had much _time_ to maintain my automail!" Ed ignored the rest of Winry's lecture, put his arms around Alphonse, and pulled him close, kissing his brother on the cheek. "I love you, Al. I want you to know that. I just wish I could have done better, and gotten you back healthy."

"I love you too, Brother," said Al, resting his head on Ed's shoulder. "You don't have to blame yourself all the time. Even a body like this is better than living inside a tin can—or being dead."

"...are you listening, Edward?" Winry shook Ed's automail leg to get his attention.

"Huh? I was just talking to Al. After all he's been through he needs some support."

Winry groaned. "You're hopeless. Wait there while I get my tools. What am I going to do with you?"

Ed said nothing, simply watching as Winry rummaged through her purse. His arms were still around Al, until he felt his younger brother slump over. Looking down, he noticed that Al had fallen asleep.

Colonel Roy Mustang felt like a prisoner in a hospital bed of his own, blind as a bat and wounded from his encounter with the thing that called itself Father. His career wasn't supposed to end like this. Not with him going through the rest of his life blind, fumbling around with a white cane in his hands while Grumman groped the interns from the Fuhrer's seat. It wasn't fair. He had gained incredible new alchemy powers much like Fullmetal's when he had gone through that gate of Truth, but what good were they now that he was blind?

_He's not Fullmetal anymore_, Roy had to remind himself. The Fullmetal Alchemist was an alchemist no more; a few tests conducted shortly after Edward Elric's admission to the hospital had shown that the boy was now completely incapable of performing even the most basic transmutations. It was like his talent had just vanished completely. Now he was just Edward Elric again. _Poor bastard_, he thought, remembering the miserable eleven-year-old double amputee he had met in Resembool one spring day and offered the chance of becoming a state alchemist to. Now that boy was sixteen, and the new life he had received had come to an end. He had signed and stamped Edward's discharge form earlier that day (with some assistance from Hawkeye to find the correct line on the paper) in what would probably be one of his last acts as a military officer. He had to admit he was fond of Edward, as disrespectful, grouchy, and bullheaded as the youth could be sometimes. Sometimes it didn't hurt to have someone under him who was honest about his opinion, even to the point of being brutally honest.

Roy's thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in."

"Hello, Colonel," said Dr. Knocs, to just about the only person in the world the doctor was ever polite to. "Is any sight coming back to your eyes?"

"None. None at all. I've been thinking about Fullme—I mean Edward Elric. How are he and his brother doing?"

"Oh, making noise, causing trouble, not doing what they're told. Fortunately the condition Edward's brother is in makes him less of a handful than Edward himself, even if Alphonse likes to use alchemy to bind the nurses up."

"Is Alphonse in as bad a condition as I've heard?"

"He looks like a living skeleton. You can see his breastbone, his ribs, his spine, his pelvis, his kneecaps, his eye sockets, everything. He weighed only 76 pounds when we admitted him. He'll be lucky if he doesn't require other people to care for him for the rest of his life."

"I imagine that must be hard on Edward, then."

"Edward actually got out of bed and into his brother's to share body heat with him last night. The idiot could have pulled out Alphonse's IVs and caused a fatal electrolyte imbalance."

"Well, you can't deny that his heart's in the right place. How long do you plan on keeping him?"

"Another few days, until his wounds are healed enough that there's no worry of infection, and then he'll be sent home. His brother won't be able to go home for several weeks, at least. Edward's girlfriend is in the room with them."

"Don't call her that in front of him. You'll never hear the end of it."

"How about I call him a backwoods simpleton sheep-molester from Resembool; do you think that would shut him up?

Roy snorted. "No, it would take an act of God to calm him down once he gets going."

A nurse came in briefly and whispered something into Dr. Knox's ear, provoking a groan. "Dammit, Colonel, from the noises the floor nurses have reported, they must both be awake by now. Even phenobarbital can't keep Edward Elric down for long. How am I supposed to get any work done?"

"Just ignore him. The more you pay attention the louder he gets. Eventually he'll get tired and fall asleep for a while. That kid will sleep fifteen hours a day if you let him get away with it."

"I have to get back to work, but before I do, I have one more thing to tell you."

"Oh?"

"I think we might be able to do something about your eyes."

Edward was lying in his own bed now, still damp from the bath a nurse (thankfully not the fat one with the accent this time) had given him. The fresh linens smelled like soap and lavender, and Winry had brought him a quilt that was much more comfortable than the thin hospital blanket. Now it was Alphonse's turn to be be bathed—as he was too weak to be moved much, he was receiving a sponge bath in bed, and his privacy curtain was drawn to protect his modesty. Ed could hear Al talking to the nurse behind the curtain, mostly complaining about pain when he felt it.

Ed suddenly had an idea. It couldn't be that hard, he thought, to do much of the work of taking care of Al himself, at least once he was discharged and not stuck in a bed of his own. Washing Al, combing his hair, turning him in bed, and the like might be tedious work, but certainly not work that required years of experience and a specialized degree. Winry had done much the same for him when he first received his automail implants, after all. And Al was _his brother_, the center of his universe, the person he had labored for years to make happy. He waited for the nurse to leave the room before making his move.

"Hey Winry!"

"Huh? Did I fall asleep?" Winry opened her eyes, and sat up straight in her chair, bracing her arms against the back of the chair so she could stretch. "Is the nurse still with Al?"

"She just left. I had an idea. Do you think Granny would be willing to contribute a bit of money to rent a room in Central? What's left of my annual research grant should be enough to cover the rest, as well as my pension when I get it."

Winry looked annoyed. "All right, Ed, what kind of harebrained scheme have you thought up now?"

"I want to stay in Central for a while after getting discharged so I can look after Al. I'll try to do as much as I can myself. Bathing him, feeding him, that kind of stuff." Ed sat up, putting a hand down the back of his pajama shirt to knead out a painful spot on his back. He always felt creaky and sore all over for several days after a fight.

"You can't be serious. Not when he's starved almost to death and you've got a hole in your right arm. Why don't you take it easy for a while instead of trying to pile more responsibilities onto yourself?"

"Because I want to _do_ something, Winry, rather than lie in bed at home in Resembool for days while Granny feeds soup to me and treats me like a sick child, which is usually what happens when I come home a bit beat up. I can walk, I can get around. There's no need for me to be lying around right now, not when my brother needs me. I want to see Al get better. I want to help him. I'm his big brother and I should be protecting him."

"All right," said Winry, defeated. "I'll talk to Granny about it. Just don't overextend yourself. You have a habit of stretching yourself too far, after all. In the meantime, I want you to rest. You've been through a lot. Be a good boy and try to get some sleep, okay?"

"All right, all right." Ed laid his head on the pillow. "Uh, I've got a favor I want to ask you, Winry. Could you...rub my back?"

Winry giggled. "Sure." She scooted her chair closer and unbuttoned Ed's shirt, peeling it away from his back and shoulders, and then turned him so he was lying face down. Ed glanced over at her and noticed that she had a smile that looked far from innocent. He couldn't help but smile back.

"You like this, huh?" said Ed, softly.

"Mmmm." She rubbed her hands together to warm them up and placed them on Ed's shoulders, and began to massage them. "You know Ed, I've kind of been afraid to admit it to you, but I really...like your body."

"Even though I'm..._short_?" said Ed with a wink. Somehow the "S" word came easily off his tongue this time. Saying it was almost titillating, breaking one of his own taboos, exploring a thought he had forbidden himself to think. Though he was getting taller, he was still only five foot three, but it didn't matter right now. Winry thought he was beautiful, and that's what mattered. The massage felt good; aching knots in his shoulders that felt like they would never stop hurting were gone in seconds, and he sighed in contentment as her hands wandered down to his upper back, pulling and kneading the taut muscles.

"Yes, Ed, even though you're short. Say, uh, can I, um, take your pants off, too?"

"Is Al awake?"

"Nope. Out like a light."

Ed grinned. "Go ahead. Take it all off."

"Naughty boy."

Ed closed his eyes as he felt the rest of his pajamas being slipped off. This was going to be a good night. A very good night.


	4. The Boy in the Mirror

**Chapter 4: The Boy in the Mirror**

"There we are. All done!"

Alphonse rubbed his now nearly bald scalp and looked down at the mounds of diseased, dull, straw-like hair piled around the chair he was in. The nurses had decided his hair was so heavily damaged from malnutrition it was better to shave it off and let him start over from stubble than to try to salvage it. Al dared not look up. He hated his appearance, hated the gaunt features, the bony arms, the grayish pallor of his skin.

"Don't you want to see your reflection, Alphonse?" said the hospital orderly who had given him his haircut, clasping a hand around Al's shoulder.

Slowly Alphonse lifted his head, eyes closed, dreading the sight of his own face. He waited until his head was level to open his eyes. He studied himself in the mirror, noticing that his almost total baldness only served to make him look even more withered and emaciated. Without his hair (even as dry and faded and awful as it was), there was nothing to draw attention away from his sunken eyes, his protruding facial bones, his cracked, chapped lips. "I can't—I can't look anymore!" Al looked down again, trembling, fighting back tears. "I look hideous! I'm a ghoul!"

"No, no, no," said the orderly as he walked around to stand in front of Alphonse. "You're not hideous. You're a handsome boy, and you'll be even more handsome when you gain some weight and fill out."

"You're just trying to make me feel better!" Al had started breathing heavily now, willing himself not to cry. "Look at how bony I am! How can you call me handsome?"

"You're not going to be like this forever, Alphonse. You've already gained eight pounds since you came here, and soon you'll be starting physical therapy so you can get your strength back. Don't be so hard on yourself; it's not good for you." The orderly rubbed Alphonse's head. "I'm going to take you back to your room now. Your brother is about to be discharged, so I think you should see him before he leaves."

Alphonse said nothing, but simply held his head in his hands as the orderly wheeled him back to his room. Far worse than looking ugly was the fact that he _felt_ ugly—a horrible, gnawing feeling that he was somehow defective as a human being. He had always felt like he was not as strong, not as brave, not as handsome, not as wise as his brother, despite Ed's insistence to the contrary. Ed was always quick to tell him that he was not inferior, that he loved him the way he was, and Al was certain Edward believed that. But the problem was, that Alphonse himself did not.

Edward packed his books into his suitcase as he prepared to leave the hospital. Winry had purchased a set of clothes for him to wear, a brown suit with a soft white shirt and Oxford shoes. Sharp but comfortable, and not too formal. His old Fullmetal Alchemist getup was packed away in the suitcase, unlikely to ever be worn again. It was time for him to adjust to being a normal civilian and not a larger-than-life heroic figure; his days of wearing red coats and leather pants were over. He would miss being the Fullmetal Alchemist, but now was no time to live in the past, not when he was a youth on the verge of manhood with his whole life ahead of him and a brother who needed him.

It had now been a week since the Promised Day. The room Ed planned to stay in had three months' rent prepaid. The total came out to 165,000 cens—expensive, but for a room in the heart of Central within walking distance of the hospital, it was not bad. Ed's research grants from the previous year were completely exhausted; between room and board, food, research, travel, medical expenses (lots of medical expenses; he imagined his medical history could fill a book now), and the like, the young former alchemist had burned through 15 million cens in little more than a year. With an education almost entirely focused on alchemy at the expense of everything else, Ed would be lucky to make one tenth that amount at the jobs that would be available to him. His military pension would likely add 500,000 or so on top of that, but Edward would not be a rich man. He loved to travel, but he wouldn't be able to afford it with the money he would be making. _At least my healthcare's free now since I'm a veteran_, he mused to himself.

Ed stood up, picking his suitcase up off the floor, and walked over to Al's bed. "Hey," he said, kneeling at Al's bedside and resting a hand on his brother's chest. "I've gotta go now, before the nurses chase me out the door. I've rented a room in Central, so I'll be visiting you often. You hang in there and get well so we can go back home together, okay?"

"I'll try," said Alphonse. "Will you be all right by yourself?"

"After all I've been through? Living by myself away from home in a little apartment for a while is nothing. You should listen to yourself, lying here so sick and frail and worrying about me while I'm healthy and strong. Don't be so silly." Ed grinned, his smile simultaneously full of manly bravado and brotherly warmth, as he ruffled what was left of Al's hair.

"Brother?" Al sounded pained now.

"Yeah? What's the matter?"

"Am I ugly?"

"There you go again, beating yourself up. What have I told you about that? I'd never think such a terrible thing about you, ever. You're my little brother and I love you more than anything in the world. Are you upset about your hair?"

"Yeah, a little bit. Now I'm almost bald and I look even worse than before."

"Did you look closely at your roots? They look really healthy, much better than the hair you had when you came here. In a month or so you'll have a nice head of hair. Now stop thinking negative thoughts about yourself. You're only going to slow down your recovery acting like that. I'm going to head to my apartment, unpack my things, and get situated. I'll see you again in a few hours."

"All right, Brother. Bye. Thank you for staying in Central to be with me."

"It's no problem," said Ed, waving as he walked out of the room.

"Is Al being hard on himself again?" said Winry, leaning against the wall outside the door.

"Yeah." Ed rubbed a sore spot on his neck. "Blaming himself, thinking he's somehow broken, you know the drill. I love him to death, but I wish he'd knock it off for once. All it does is make him feel worse."

Winry sighed. "I know, it's frustrating. Self-pity's bad enough, but self-pity and self-hatred at the same time?"

"Yeah, but what can you do? Al's gonna be Al. He'll get over himself eventually." Ed bent backwards, stretching out his back. "That Father guy must have done a real number on me. A whole week and my body's still aching all over." Even Winry's massages could only temporarily relieve the pain. Even that one "special" massage on the second night. "Uhhh, hey, Winry?" he said, a blush starting to spread over his cheeks.

"What is it, Ed?"

"Well, I just want to, uh, thank you for a few nights ago when you, um..." Ed fumbled for words, trying to think of a way to put it that wouldn't offend Winry, any staff within earshot, or both.

"When I gave you a handjob, you mean?"

Ed's whole face turned red now; he wrapped his arms around himself reflexively, feeling supremely uncomfortable, as if his clothes had suddenly fallen off. "Y-yeah, that wa-was what I was...talking about."

Winry giggled. "No need to be all embarrassed about it, Ed. If you behave yourself, I just might give you another one sometime." With that, she briefly grabbed Edward's crotch, eliciting a choked squeal from the young man, who now was sweating and looking around nervously. "Anyway, are you sure you'll be okay by yourself?"

"Yeah," said Ed, still shaking a little bit as he tried to regain his composure and hoping no one besides Winry noticed his erection. "I have that little manual for my automail, and the spare set. I'll be fine."

"Good boy. Well, I have to catch the train back to Resembool. Take good care of your brother, and if you have any problems, give me a call. See ya!" She smiled widely and waved, and then turned to leave.

"Bye! Have a nice trip!" called Edward after her. He picked his suitcase back up off the floor, having dropped it when Winry was flirting with him.

"Hmmmm," came a deep voice behind him. "So she _is_ your girlfriend after all."

"Colonel!" Ed whipped around 180 degrees in a fraction of a second, now having gone from beet red to deathly pale. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were blind!"

Colonel Roy Mustang smirked. "Dr. Marcoh did me a favor with his Philosopher's Stone. I can see quite well now, thank you very much. I could especially see how red you were turning when Winry was talking to you."

"Oh man..." Ed buried his face in his hands. "This is so embarrassing."

"Relax, kid," said Roy, patting Edward on the shoulder. "That girl's quite a catch; you should be proud. But I think your technique needs a little work." Roy straightened his uniform and his face took on a more somber expression. "I heard about what happened to your alchemy abilities. My condolences."

"It's not that big a deal," said Ed, straightening his posture. "I can get by without them. But now that you can transmute without a circle, it's not like you need me anymore anyway."

"Nonsense. You might not be valuable as a soldier anymore, but you're still valuable to me as a friend." Roy smiled again; this time a genuine one, and ruffled Ed's hair. "I guess you're not Fullmetal anymore, so what should I call you now?"

"Ed will suffice. But do you really see me as a friend, Colonel?"

"Yes. I like you. You're a good kid, and so is your brother. By the way, Ed, you're not a soldier anymore, you can knock it off with the whole "Colonel" business. Call me Roy." Roy extended his hand.

"All right, Roy," said Edward, shaking his former superior officer's hand. "I'm not actually going back to Resembool right now; I've rented a room a few blocks from here where I'll stay until they're ready to release Al. I want to be with him and take care of him. He deserves it after everything he's done for me."

"That's very admirable of you, Edward. But I really think we should both be leaving, before Dr. Knocs chases us out with a cricket bat."

Dr. Knocs grunted in annoyance as he heard the telephone ring. It always seemed to ring at the worst possible time, just as he was getting into his work. He muttered a curse under his breath before picking the receiver up. "Hello? Dr. Knocs, Central Hospital. What is it?"

"Hello, doctor," said Lan Fan on the other end. "Is Alphonse Elric in your care?"

"Yes, he is. How do you know that? Why are you calling me? You caused me enough trouble back when you and that other Xingese girl were being treated at my house." Dr. Knocs dreaded the thought of having to deal with her again, and her ridiculous Xingese sense of honor.

"Because I have someone who can help him. An alkahestrist, from my Young Lord's family. My sources tell me that Alphonse is very frail and won't be able to recover fully by normal means. I think His Grace Lord Han Yao might be able to help him."

"Don't be ridiculous. If you really think magic is any sort of substitute for real medical science-"

Lan Fan's tone turned icy and threatening, as if she wished she could physically attack him. "Do _not_ mistake alkahestry for some sort of cheap stage magic, doctor. It is more powerful than you can possibly imagine. His Grace_ will_ be coming to see Alphonse, and you _will_ treat him with the respect due to a foreign dignitary."

"Fine. Have it your way. Just make sure he stays out of my way."

"Stay out of his way and His Highness will stay out of yours. The Young Lord and his family owe the Elric brothers a great debt; this is a matter of honor for our clan and our country. Do not interfere."

Dr. Knocs slammed down the phone. It seems like he would have to deal with yet another inscrutable Xingese noble, this time one with the power to circumvent his authority as a physician. "When am I ever going to get some peace and quiet around here?" he muttered to himself.


End file.
